Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale own Back to the Future, not me.

~November 18th, 1955~

As Marty approached the garage, he paused, staring up at the darkened sky. The stars shone, twinkling pinpricks distant in the sky. He remembered when he was 13-years-old and Doc bringing him outside one night, to the forest (or how many acres were left of it, after all of the construction for new buildings done in the surrounding area). The scientist had a telescope in his arms, mindful not to drop the expensive object, while Marty carried the stand behind him. When they had arrived to the darkest part of the remaining forest, Doc had set up the telescope, before teaching Marty every single constellation. Usually, that type of information shoved into him all at once, would go out the other ear, but that time it hadn't. Doc had told him that observing at the heavens above was one of his favorite actives, besides reading, he had done as a child himself. Marty had confessed that he liked anything related to outer space, but hadn't told his friends. He was afraid they would call him a "nerd", if he ever did. Doc had told him, in that moment, he would never make fun of him for anything and Marty had realized that night, that the older man considered him a friend. He shook the fond memories away, before continuing on inside. "Doc?"

He could hear distant mumbling from deeper inside and he squinted into the poor lighting. Marty observed the hunched over form of 1955 Doc, bent over a desk, which was disorganized with dissembled electronics. The 17-year-old peered over his shoulder, at the faded calculations being erased and the frustrated face the elder man in presented. "Uh, Doc?"

Doc didn't reply to his voice, scribbling out equations that Marty vaguely recognized. Though it had been nearly a week, he wasn't used to Doc not responding to the nickname he had presented him with. He had referred to him as "Doctor Brown" a few times now and the name felt unnatural to his tongue. It seemed to be what he responded to though in this time and Doc was usually startled when he realized Marty was there. He supposed he would be, too, if he typically lived alone and didn't speak to anyone much. "Doctor Brown?"

The elder man frowned, glancing up at the face leaning over his shoulder. When he cringed and nearly fell from his seat, Marty stepped back. Doc steadied himself within seconds, hand placed over his pounding heart. "Great Scott, Marty, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Yeah, I know, sorry about that. Uh, I just wanted to talk to you."

"Oh, are you hungry? Is it late? I'm sorry, I was working on the calculations for the Flux Ca-"

"Actually, that's one of things I sorta wanna talk about with you." Marty explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

"The Flux Capacitor?"

"Yeah...well...uh, you said I could help you with it, but, uh, you haven't asked me anything about it all week?"

"Well, Marty, I've actually though it through, and I decided perhaps...I could perhaps do this myself...I'm not sure if...you would quite understand all of this an-"

"You're shitting me," Marty groaned, beginning to understand exactly the train of thought Doc had in mind. "You think I'm too stupid to get this."

"Now, I never said that, I ju-" He immediately protested, waving his hands at the teenager.

"No, I get it. You really think I'm stupid." He felt offended by what the past version of Doc believed. His Doc, 1985 Doc, had never once had believed he was incapable of understanding such matters. Marty may of not understand the meaning behind most phrases Doc had told him, but he understand the gist of of what he had been told.

Doc appeared remorseful for his words and was reaching out for the brunet "Marty, please, I d-"

"I'm just gonna go to bed, ok? I'm sorta tired from being around my par-I mean, George and Lorraine, and I just wanna go to sleep," He backed uo, before Doc could make contact, already heading out of the garage. He paused by the doorway, turning around to stricken elder man. "I don't want you to wake me up, if I have nightmares tonight."

~BTTF~

"I almost forgot my luggage," Doc mumbled aloud, shaking his head, as he approached the time machine. The frigid October air nipped at their exposed faces, though he had grown accustomed to it, having dealt with the temperatures for years now. Marty blinked multiple times, feeling quite drowsy, as it was in the early morning hours. "Who knows if they have cotton underwear in the future. I'm allergic to all synthetics."

As he opened the lid to the front of the DeLorean, storing his suitcase inside, Marty frowned, feeling a sense of deja-vu consume him, though he attempted to ignore that powerful emotion. He was distracted though, when the dots connected in his head, the babbling of Doc making sense to his muddled mind. "The future. That's where you're going."

"That's right! 25 years into the future! I've always dreamed of seeing the future, looking behind my years...seeing the progress of mankind!" He exclaimed animatedly, wisps of his white hair, fluttering in the wind.

Marty felt his lips tug upwards, the excitement Doc presented, affecting him. He was moved aside, the hand placed on Marty's arm causing his deja-vu to to return, and Doc hurried to the door of the vehicle. "Why not?"

"I'll also be able to see who wins the next twenty-five World Series."

"Uh, Doc..." He caught the scientist's attention, as he glanced up from the pens he was adjusting his pocket, preparing to be filmed by the 17-year-old.

"Huh?" Marty observed his unruly hair, obviously unbrushed today, the wrinkles on his face prominent from where he was. The white hazmat suit matched his hair, the collar his Hawaiian button-up peeping out. His gloves, with the toxic warning signs, where a bright color that distracted from the rest of the scientist. Those details weren't what Marty was studying though. He was staring into the elder man's eyes, the chocolate ones, full of a type of youth, despite what he age was. Marty felt nearly as though he wouldn't see him for a very long time, even though his trip to the future wouldn't be long. He wanted to tell Doc to look up the future version of himself, yet the words wouldn't come out. "Marty?"

The 17-year-old licked his lips, whispering hoarsely. "I'm gonna miss you, Doc."

The scientist appeared surprised, before releasing a snort of amusement. "Marty, I'm only going to be gone a few hours at most. Well, it will be a minute for you, so it's even less time than you believe it to be."

"Yeah, I know, but...but..."

"Marty, everything is going to be fine," Doc reassured and despite the words of comfort, Marty felt as though he was wrong. "Are you ready to roll?"

The brunet frowned at his unnecessary anxiety about this situation, before nodding. He lifted the camcorder towards the elder man and pressed the record button. Doc opened the door of the DeLorean and cleared his throat. He adjusted the collar of his hazmat suit, staring into the lens of the camera, though it felt as though he was staring at Marty. "I, Dr. Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey..."

Doc chuckled, gesturing off the camera to the right. "Ha, what am I thinking of? I almost forgot to bring extra plutonium. How do I expect to get back? One pellet, one trip! I must be out of my mind!"

Marty heard Einstein bark from inside the van beside them and Doc glanced over at where he was located. Marty felt a sense of dread wash over him, and he paled at the the emotions engulfing him. Unaware, the camcorder's frame shook, due to his trembling hands. He remained in place though, continuing to record. "What is it, Einie?"

Doc glanced over at Marty-no, beyond him, squinting his eyes. He frowned, stepping closer to the camera, as he observed what Marty couldn't see behind him. His heart drummed in his chest, the camcorder clearly quaking in his hands. The brunet didn't know how he knew, but he knew that what Doc was viewing, spelt out the end. The end of what? He couldn't answer that quite yet. "Oh my god...They found me...I don't know how, but they found me."

Marty dropped the device, hands coming up to cover his mouth. He knew, he knew who was there, and what was going to occur that night. He didn't know how, but he simply did know this to be true. Doc barely noticed, before crying out to him, and sprinting away. "Run for it, Marty!"

Doc abruptly noticed that Marty was staring at his hands, instead of sprinting after him. The engine of the van roared, as it approached the pair, though Marty couldn't focus on the noise surrounding him. Doc whirled around, reached out for him, and grasped tightly onto his forearm. "We need to go! The Libyans, they're g-"

He choked out his word, realizing what was occurring. "H-Holy shit...h-holy shit...I'm d-dreaming...I'm not awake..."

"Marty! Please, we need to-" They both cringed violently, as gunshots were drilled at them, Doc shoving Marty to the ground, as they flew into the van. Marty groaned, glancing up from the asphalt, at the horrified elder man. "I'll draw their fire!"

Doc dived towards a tool box, desperately digging for a weapon, as more rounds were drilled off. He hoped up, shotgun in hand, aiming it at the swerving van, heading their way. He pressed the trigger, frowning as not a single bullet was ejected. He attempted another time, shaking the weapon, before staring down the barrel. Marty supposed at that moment, he realized the shotgun wasn't loaded. The scientist gasped in horror, before dodging more bullets drilled at him. "Doc, wait!"

The van approached, coming to a halt, as Doc attempted to make a run for it. He froze in place, raising his hands, as the Libyan terrorist seethed at him. He tossed the gun away, in what appeared to be the hope that they would understand his surrender. Marty's eyes widened and he remembered what was going to happen within the next second. "DOC, RUN!"

The scientist's head swiveled around to him, as the round of bullets were pelted into his chest, by the terrorists. He stumbled back from the force and his eyes widened at the sight. Marty screamed, despite the knowledge that Doc was going to prevent his own death with a bullet-proof vest later, he released an agonizing scream. His throat burned, the only thought consuming him, was his best friend being murdered. He didn't even curse, as he did the first time, it was simply a wail. The gun was turned on him, before he could even go to stand, and the bullets were pelted into him. He continued to scream, as he landed on his back, blood pooling into his lungs. He screams turned into chokes and gags, gurgling as blood boiled out of his mouth, as bleed out, as he di-

"Marty! Marty!" He was frantically shaken awake from his nightmare and he thrashed against the arms wrapped around his frame. He screamed into the darkness, fighting against who held him captive. He pounded his fists as hard as possible against the individual, hearing a series of pained grunts in reply, the arms tightening. "Marty, please, it's me!"

He ceased his movement, upon realization of who it was. He laid his head against the scientist's chest, the elder man sitting behind him. He felt the nose of the dog nudge his thigh, whining and Marty squeezed his eyes shut. Einstein laid his upon the brunet's thigh and his entire body lost the tense feeling he had endured, going limp. "...I-I'm sorry, Doc...I just had this dream...a-and...I-I'm just glad you're here though...you and Einstein..."

"Oh...Marty, uh, I'm afraid...I'm afraid that's Copernicus and that you're still stuck in 1955," He felt the vibrations from the frame behind him, as the voice explained to him. His eyes shot open, body tensing, and he jolted up from the chest he was laid upon. He shoved the younger version of Doc away, Copernicus releasing a yelp, as Marty accidentally kicked the animal, in his haste to distant himself. There was a pause of silence, as Marty panted. He felt the elder man shift on his bed, though he couldn't view him in the darkness of the room. Marty brought his knees up to his chest. "Coper, boy, are you alright?"

The teenager felt horrible, unaware of how hard he had kicked the dog. He hadn't meant to, he was simply frightened of how he had revealed his trust, to the younger Doc, despite barely knowing him. He wouldn't mind being that close to his Doc, as they had fallen asleep on top of one another in the future, on several occasions, but this Doc, he didn't feel as though he could trust him in the same manner. He heard a whine from Copernicus and flinched, when the dog laid his head, upon Marty's foot. Copernicus wasn't Einstein, he never could replace him. His lip wobbled, feeling as the future dog was there though, and he reached out, stroking the fur. The bed shifted, as the weight of Doc left. "Marty, I'm going to turn on the light, alright?"

He didn't reply, squeezing his eyes shut, kneading his hands into Copernicus. The light was flipped on a moment later, though it appeared dulled from behind his eyelids. He didn't want to open his eyes, open them, and realize he wasn't petting Einstein, and that Doc wasn't older. His hands were trembling, trembling as though he were in his dream, again, realizing he was in a dream. He felt a hand rest upon his shoulder, rubbing the material of his shirt, against his skin. "Marty, are you alright?"

Marty opened his eyes, observing the blond, beside the bed. "...y-you're not old."

"No, I'm not quite there yet. I haven't even reached middle age status," Doc informed the teenager, eyes darting over to the trembling hand, clinging onto the fur of his dog. "May you release Copernicus, Marty? I afraid you might be grasping his fur too tight."

Marty released, feeling tears burn in his eyes, as he buried his face into his knees. "I-I'm sorry, Doc..."

"No, Marty, I should be apologizing," He glanced up from his knees, as Doc settled himself, at the end of the bed. "I should of know by now, not to hold you down, when you wake up from a nightmare. You always fight against me, when I do."

He gulped thickly. "I-I told you not to wake me up..."

"I recall, but, your screaming was loud enough tonight, that I could hear it from the garage. There's already those nasty rumors circulating about me torturing animals, and I wouldn't want to add humans to that list as well."

"...they still say that in the future anyways..." Marty mumbled to himself.

"What was that?"

He sighed. "Nothing...just future stuff..."

Doc bit his lip. "Marty, there's more I need to apologize for...I...I made an error earlier in the night..when I said that you wouldn't quite understand what I was doing...My error was that, I though it would be a better excuse, than the truth."

He sniffled. "The truth?"

"I didn't want to truly tell you how concerned I am...I thought that making you understand that you'll be stuck here for a few years, would be enough. It seemed it hasn't been though. I haven't asked you, Marty, because I thought you shouldn't be troubled with anything at the moment. You're already suffering enough with your nightmares and the lack of sleep. And, you've lost quite a bit of weight, within a short period of time. I don't think I've seen a teenager eat as little as you do."

"I-I'm fine thou-"

"No, you're not Marty. You scared that you wouldn't get back, but I promise you, one way or another, you'll get back," He assured the brunet, yet Marty couldn't help but imagine what lengths he had gone to the first time he had attempted to create the DeLorean. He hadn't realizing the tears were rolling down his cheeks, until Doc's eyebrow's furrowed at the sight. "Marty?"

"I-I know you're going to use a bullet-proof vest, to save yourself, b-but I can't help but think that me missing with time, will make you die anyways...and I-I can't save you this time, b-because the t-time machine hasn't been built yet..."

"Now, I can't guarantee I won't die in a certain way, one of these days, but I know none of it will be your fault. You didn't have a hand with tricking the Libyan terrorists the first time, and you won't this time, because you're going to be back to 1985, before I get that point."

"Bu-"

Doc rested his hand upon Marty's knee. "I'm not going to die, for a very long time, Marty."

Marty began to realize how paranoid he belief seemed to be. He couldn't imagine anything he would do, within the next 10 years, ending up with the elder man dead. He wiped at his moist eyes, bobbing his head up and down. Perhaps, he could trust past Doc more, than he had initially believed he could. "I-I'm sorry... I'm just...s-scared..."

"I know you are Marty, but we will get you back to your own time, I promise you that. And, we're going to sort out these nightmares, so you can finally get the rest you need. I'm also going to do what I should of done earlier in the week; start to monitor your eating habits, so you actually get back to your original weight. You were slim to start off with and losing that weight didn't help you in the least."

"Ah, Doc, come on! I'm not a baby!" He immediately protested, feeling as though the scientist was treating as if he hadn't reached near adulthood.

"Marty you've lost somewhere from 8-10 pounds and can't afford to lose much else. If you do, I'm going to have to take you to a hospital."

The 17-year paled at these words. "What? No, I can't go to a hospital!"

"Then, you're going to let me do this then."

"That makes me feel like I'm two though an-"

"Marty, you don't seem to understand how worrisome it is to lose that amount of weight, in the course of six days!" Doc exclaimed, squeezing Marty's knee, the material of the pajama pants sliding across his skin underneath.

"I know it's bad, bu-"

"If you don't gain at least three pounds back this weekend, I'm not letting you go to high school with your parents on Monday."

"No! I can't just sit around you and do nothing! And, you're the one that suggested it!"

"I know I did, but your health is far more important than this and I don't think I could forgive myself in the future, if I realized that I let you continue to eat practically nothing!"

He felt guilty, as he realized how concerned the older man was for him. He sighed, apologizing for how irrational he sounded. "...I'm sorry, Doc...I'm just not really hungry a lot nowadays and I forget to eat...I keep thinking about...future Doc stuck in 1885..."

"I understand you're worried about my future counterpart, but you must take care of yourself."

"I know, I know...I'll...I'll try..."

His hand slid off his knee and he bit his lip anxiously. "Now that we have all that sorted out, there's another topic I would like to address...about the paperwork...I obviously changed your year of birth and family history, but...well, the last name you wanted me to change it to, I don't think i-"

"Doc, I already told you. Calvin Klein is going to be someone famous in a couple of years and everyone is going to think it's weird that I have the same name as the guy. I'm changing it to Brown, ok. It makes sense and...well, uh..." He trailed off awkwardly, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. He finally decided to simply blurt out the rest. "You-future you-was there more than my own Dad was, so he's almost like...my, uh..."

The scientist stared at him for a few moments, heat beginning to creep up his neck, causing Marty to release an awkward laugh. Doc spluttered out his reply to the teenager. "Well, I-I'm flattered...um...and, well...I-I...t-thank y-you, Marty..."

Marty remembered, around when he had been 15, he had gone over to Doc's house one day, during Spring Break. He had gone to him, having accidentally left his skateboard in the driveway and his mother running it over when she had arrived home, to fix the broken board. While the scientist had been fixing the body, he had went to play fetch with Einstein, in the patch of grass beside the garage. By the time they had come inside, he was working on the wheels. he hadn't even glanced up, when he had asked Marty for the screwdriver, and had added "son" to the end. Doc had blushed when he realized his wording and Marty had told him immediately after, that he was going home. He had gone home that night and smiled to himself, feeling as though his dad hadn't been there the same way Doc had been through the few years they had know one another. Neither of them mentioned the incident ever again, but Marty would always remember that moment. "Uh, anyways, can we get started on the Flux Capacitor or...?"

"Marty, it's nearly midnight," Doc replied, raising his eyebrow. "I'm going to bed and you should try sleeping, too. You need it even more than I do."

"But, Doc, you know I won't be able to sleep anymore! It's the same damn thing every night!"

"Well, you can certainly try...perhaps our conversation has alleviate some of your anxiety you're experiencing."

Marty thought of the comforting words he had been given by his friend. Doc wouldn't die, because of him messing with time. They were going to rebuild the time machine together. Marty would be home, within a few years. He would see his parents grown up. He would see Linda and Dave. He would see his girlfriend, Jennifer Parker. He and The Pinheads will become famous musicians. He would see Einstein. He will rescue Doc from the Old West. He had the whole future ahead of him. His lips tugged up into a smile. "I think maybe it did."

~November 21st, 1955~

By the time Monday had arrived, Marty had gained five pounds, after losing the eleven he had lost from his lacking of eating. Doc had made him consume so much over the weekend, that he felt would burst several times. He used to be a huge eater, back in 1985, but in 1955, he had a difficult time consuming large amount. The breakfast was lessened to a lower, much less burdensome amount, on Monday and he was thankful. His sleep had improved much though, as he appeared and felt as exhausted as ever. He no longer screamed when he woke from nightmares, but they had reduced. He had though Doc's words would lessen the dreams, yet he continued to dream, disappearing, Biff shooting him, and Doc dying, being the worse. He didn't inform Doc how bad they continued to be, but he had begun to explain his ideas about the Flux Capacitor.

When he arrived at Hill Valley High School, he located the parking space, closest to the entrance, taking a deep breath. His tan pleated pants were strung up on the highest notch on the belt, his weight still quite low for his height and age. He hadn't realized how much weight he had lost, until he had begun to regain, but he was glad that it hadn't been that noticeable. His white button-up featured a repetitive pattern of multi-colored cartoon cactuses, clad in a black jacket, the lapels white. He had always been attracted to the zany patterned shirts of this time period and was surprised Doc hadn't adopted the same type of attraction, considering his love for Hawaiian button-ups to be unnatural in the future. He unbuckled his seat belt, as he pondered this, snatched up his pile of school textbooks. He wondered why high schoolers in the 50's didn't have backpacks, as the elementary school children did, though he supposed it was the fashion. As he exited the car, he immediately heard a familiar voice shout out to him. "Calvin!"

Marty whirled around, observing his mother, and her friend reach him. He couldn't quite remember the friend's name, though he was sure it began with the letter B. He grinned at the the youthful face of his mother, as he slammed the door of the vehicle shut. "Hey, Lorraine."

"I'm sorry I didn't come over with George. I couldn't convince him to come. He is soooo stubborn sometimes." She rolled her eyes at the end.

"Yeah, he can be like that. Where is he anyways?" He asked, scanning the surrounding area for his father.

"Oh, he's probably already inside. He always comes so early, so I never walk to school with him," The brunette explained. Beside her, the dark haired friend cleared her throat. Lorraine reached out to the other, hand resting on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce you two. Babs, this is Calvin Kl-Brown. Calvin, this Barbra Freeman."

He extended his hand and she grasped it warily, as they shook. "Nice to meet you, Barbra."

"Just call me Babs. I hate Barbra." She curtly replied.

Marty raised an eyebrow at her insensitive behavior. "Alright, I can do that."

"Lorri, I have to go. I wanted to talk to Mr. Leonard about that grade he gave me on the test last week." Barbra informed her friend, lips curled into a pout, as she stared Marty down.

"Ok, see you in 5th hour, Babs!" Lorraine replied, before her friend began to head towards the entrance of the school. When she was out of earshot, Marty gave his mother a questioning look. "Calvin?"

"I'm sorta getting the impression that she doesn't like me much."

"Oh, don't take any offense, Calvin. She acts the same way with George."

Obviously, he mother didn't understand the meaning behind the actions of her friend. He decided not to mention that that meant Barbra didn't approve of George being Lorraine's boyfriend. As they began their journey to the high school, the pair passed by Biff Tannen's 1946 Ford Super De Luxe and was distracted from Lorraine's story about her father running someone over with his car, again. He felt a sense of dread wash over him, at the sight, before they entered the lawn of the school. He hoped he wouldn't catch a glimpse of the bully, afraid of what he would feel. "-nd he had to blame to poor boy for running in front of it!"

They went up the steps, entering the crowded hallway, full of high school students. Marty approached his locker, Lorraine beside him, asking him how his weekend was. He unlocked the locker and shoved in his school books, deciding not to mention his nightmares or weight issues. "Oh, it was fine. Doc is working on something new and I was helping, so I got pretty confused, but I think I'm starting to understand."

"Oh, what's he working o-George!" Lorraine released a squeal of delight at the end, causing the brunet to cringe at her high pitched voice. He slammed his locker shut, turning around, as Lorraine wrapped her arms around the neck of George McFly, behind Marty. As they began to kiss one another, Marty awkwardly stood to the side, feeling as though he was intruding on his parents intimate moment. The sound of the bell ringing broke them apart and Marty was quite thankful they were finished making out. She stepped away breathing deeply. "I'll see you in 2nd hour, George."

George's face was a shade of deep red, as students walking to their classes, stared at the trio. "Uh, yeah, in 2nd hour..."

She beamed at him, before turning to Marty, the scent of lavender perfume reaching his nose. "Bye Marty, see you in 2nd."

"Bye." He lifted his hand in a wave, observing the dazed expression his father displayed, as she sprinted down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. "George? You ok, buddy?"

"She's the most beautiful gal around..." He sighed dreamily after her, as the 17-year-old rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, yo-"

"KLEIN!" Marty paled dramatically at the roar he heard from behind, heart thumping in his chest, as he whirled around. Biff Tannen was in the middle of the hallway, pointing at him, shoulders heaving from his fuming anger. The remaining students occupying the area, scurried away immediately, as he began to rapidly approach Marty. It was completely irrational to be afraid of the teenager, but he couldn't help but think of when he was on the roof in the alternate 1985, before he knew Doc was there, having a gun aimed at him. "YOU'RE DEAD MEAT!"

George gripped his shoulder, immediately out of his daze upon hearing the voice of Biff, hissing into his ear nervously. "Marty, I know I've already stood up to Biff, but I don't think I should try again when he's this mad."

Marty opened his mouth, mouthing his words in terrified silence, as Biff menacingly approached them, feet stomping across the title below his feet. The grip on his shoulder tightened, the skin of the bully being seen to be beat red of his fury. He trembled beneath the hand, the images of nightmares appearing before his eyes. He's falling off the roof, as being shot, his lungs full of lead and blood, gurgling, as it spilled down his lips. Doc his screaming for him, watching in horror from the DeLorean, as he flies to his dea-"Marty!"

He pitched forward, throwing up, onto Biff's shoes. George's nails dug into his shoulder, the feet before him frozen in place. He glanced up, at the figure heaving above him. His eyes are darkened with a deeper anger, than he had had before, and the brunet was reminded of the alternate adult Biff. He stumbled backwards, causing George to collide with the lockers behind him. "I'M GONNA MURDER Y-"

"Is there something going on here, boys?" Marty breathed out a sigh of relief, wiping away the dribble on his chin, as Principal Strickland approached the trio. His eyes narrowed at the throw up on the shoes and the floor surrounding the area. He glanced briefly at Marty, who had a tense George clinging to his back, pressed against the lockers. "And, is there a reason why you have vomit on your shoes, Tannen?"

"Klein threw up on me." Biff grumbled, his fists trembling from the barely contained rage.

Strickland raised an eyebrow, turning his attention to the other two. His face seemed to soften a degree, observing how Marty's hands trembled, the pallor of his skin, and how wide his eyes were. Marty wasn't aware of these details he presented, but he couldn't halt the fear that had consumed at the word "murder", that had been shouted into his face. "Are you sick, Brown?"

"Brown?" The bully muttered darkly.

"Tannen, I think you should go to class. Your teacher will be wondering where you've been." Biff glared hotheaded at the balding principal and Strickland's eyes narrowed further than before. "Now."

He grumbled under his breath, the words "stupid school" and "throw up on my shoes" being heard among them, as he lumbered away from them. When he had disappeared into a classroom, Marty felt his queasy stomach begin to settle. The grip on his shoulder loosened, before falling away from him. His saliva felt thick in his mouth, the taste of throw settled onto his tongue. He gulped, hoping to lessen the taste, no avail though. His hands continued to shake, as his anxiety faded away. "Are you sick, Brown?"

Marty shook his head at the principal, not trusting his voice to come out steady. "We can't be having sick students in the school, Brown. That will make other students sick and we can't have them missing their classes. I would suggest going to the nurse, so we can send you home, if you are actually sick."

"Uh..." The principal raised an eyebrow at George, as he began to address Strickland. "M-Marty...Calvin, just...g-got nervous and, uh...never mind..."

"Don't even have the guts to explain for yourself, huh, Brown?" Marty felt as though he couldn't handle the principal baiting him, as he usually did in 1985. He was honestly surprised that the balding man was as considerate he had been in those five minutes he had ceased the beginnings of a fight. It seemed as though, that all good things did not last. "I think you two should head to class, before I write you up."

Marty wanted to go home after that, though he didn't.

End Chapter 3

Happy November everyone! I wanted to let you readers know, that since the rough draft of each chapter is already done, updates will be on each Wednesday. Don't be surprised though, if it doesn't happen, because I've forgotten to update some of my other stories on this website. Sometimes I finish off the chapter and then completely forget to add it onto this website. I'm sure this wouldn't happen too often, if it does occur at all. Notes for this chapter include the following; Babs is the brunette friend Lorraine had in the movies. If you want to see what she looks like, Google her. I made up her last name, from the last name of actress.

Preview:

"Marty, I assure you, that you're wrong about Buford Tannen."

"Bu-Wait, who?"

"Buford. Biff. He goes by Biff, but his full name is Buford."

"How do the hell do you know that, Doc?"

"...When I'm walking by or riding my bike to the grocery store, I can hear his grandmother yelling at him."